


Of course the computer's not working.

by orphan_account



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: In classrooms, M/M, Should've locked the door, Sneaky!Q, Snogging, Teacher!Bond, Undercover!Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 15:03:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2816477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’d been on a mission for three months now, going undercover at a high school while trying to get information about a new, suspicious teacher from the head of the Parent’s Committee. It was deadly boring, the students were too young for him to get along with, and he missed his husband.</p><p>Or the one where Bond's lonely, students are chatty, and Q knows just when to turn up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of course the computer's not working.

 

Bond sighed as the students started chatting. Of course the computer wasn’t working.

He’d been on a mission for three months now, going undercover at a high school while trying to get information about a new, suspicious teacher from the head of the Parent’s Committee. It was deadly boring, the students were too young for him to get along with, and he missed his husband. He and Q got to talk at night, but it wasn’t the same. Bond wanted to hold him, to feel his skin, to taste his mouth…

Bond shook his head and turned his attention back to the classroom. He’d called for someone from IT ten minutes ago, and he felt like the class was about to start a riot. Hell, he might even join them. The talking ceased when the door opened.

Bond couldn’t see the new person from his desk (bloody awful security, he thought) but he started talking anyway.

“Ah, hello. The computer’s not hooking up to the projector properly. And I’ve already tried turning it off and back on again,” he added, thinking that that would always be Q’s first advice, no matter how sarcastic he sounded when he said it.

“Good, that’s one thing I can rule out, then,” the IT person replied, stepping into view.

Bond had to grab the desk, his knuckles turning white, to stop himself from shagging him in the classroom.

Q strutted down the aisle, wearing black jeans that may have well been painted on, and a shirt that seemed loose on the first glance, but on the second, it clung to all the right places. Bond could almost trace his ribcage with his eyes. He wanted to do it with his tongue.

“Jasper,” Q said, holding out his hand and smiling politely.

“James,” Bond said, shaking Q’s head, trying not to react as Q traced his palm with a fingertip.

“Now, what’s the problem?”

Of course Q had it sorted out in under a minute, but in that minute he had to crawl under the desk, reach up to the projector and move in almost every way possible to show off his body. Bond was too keenly aware that the students were practically drooling. He made a mental note to fail them all. After Q had rewired the projector, and hit it to get it to boot up, he gave Bond another grin.

“If you don’t mind, I might sit in for the rest of the class? Wouldn’t want a troublesome computer to interrupt your lesson again.”

Bond nodded and proceeded to talk through his speech he knew by memory to the class. He was sure that none of them took in anything he said, which was fine, because halfway through he forgot what he was meant to be talking about.

Q was sitting in the back corner with his feet on the ground and his legs slightly spread. The first time Bond looked at him, he bit his lip, turning it a bright pink, before licking it slowly. Every shift in his chair made his arousal more obvious and Bond finally settled behind his desk, glaring at Q with a dark promise in his eyes. When the bell finally rang, the students meandered out slowly, taking their time to give Q another once-over. As the last one left, Bond thanked the stars that this was his last class for the week, before realising that Q would’ve known all along. When the door to the hallway closed, Q was out of his seat and in Bond’s arms in a matter of seconds.

“God, I missed you-” was all Bond got out before Q’s lips crashed into his. Bond lifted him by his hips, aiming to put him on the desk, but Q wrapped his legs around Bond’s waist, rubbing himself against Bond’s muscled torso. Bond groaned into his mouth as he moved his hands to hold Q’s ass, pivoting on one foot and slamming him back into the wall.

Q’s tongue slipped inside his mouth as he scrambled for purchase on Bond’s wide shoulders, squirming against his stomach. Bond rucked Q’s shirt up and traced the ridges of his whipcord muscles when they heard a gasp behind them.

Q dropped onto his feet in a second and Bond whipped around, hand reaching for his gun, when he saw who it was.

A student.

“Um, sorry to interrupt, sir? But I… Um, I had a question about the assignment… And I knocked! I’m sorry! I’ll just email it to you.”

The probably-traumatised teenager scurried out of the room, slamming the door shut behind them.

Q burst out laughing.

“Is M going to kill you for being here?” James asked, smirking at the closed door.

“I’m here on his orders. Well,” he said, catching James’s disbelieving expression. “There’s new intel and I convinced him it would be easier to convey in person. I think he was trying to get rid of me.”

“It’s a conspiracy. Coming to my hotel room?”

“Well, we could… Or we could go to the suite I’ve booked for the weekend, in a five-star, ten minutes drive from here?”

“Always prepared, my dearest Quartermaster, always prepared.”

 


End file.
